“Bio this, techno that, ion whatever… blah blah blahhdy blah blah. Honestly who buys that crap? If you’re someone that does, go back to our home page, have another read, then give yourself an uppercut – you shouldn’t still be on our site, you don’t belong here and you’ve been told. Now bugger off.”

Now I love a bit of aggressive, non-conformist copy. I love the way that Brewdog talk about themselves, and denigrate the mainstream competition.

No, my issue with Linebreak is that if you are going to write copy that says….”We’re damn good at what we do, which is developing and making the stuff. What we’re not great at is marketing (and we’re kinda proud of that). We’ve played the game, we got sucked in. Sucked in to thinking we needed the slickest marketing….”

Then you shouldn’t let the multinational marketing agency that probably wrote it for you have a little graphic at the bottom of the page which tells you that they did.

Kind of undermines the brand positioning somewhat.

Click on the illustration by my project partner Tobey Brown to read it. Thanks to Rowena Roberts for editing support and help.

To find out more about 26 Stories of Christmas, click here.

People generally don’t like that. Ho hum. Anyway, here it is.

Dear XXXX,

Your brand made its mark on me at an early age. On the back of my head to be precise. I was overexcited and showing off to my brother Tom when I jumped off a flight of stairs and landed on my head. I was in hospital for days. My Mother says I nearly died. So it was a memorable visit for her.

Another one of my memories is of Tom (him again) being bitten by a goose. Happy days.

Anyway, you’ve asked for a creative idea, not the story of my life. You want more people to donate more money. You’re concerned that many people aren’t aware of your charity status, nor are they aware of how they can make a difference around the world. So you’re in the market for a campaign idea that will deliver a good ROI in the form of donations.

Well, maybe because I landed on my head all those years ago, I’m going to ask – are you sure? Do you really need a campaign idea? The reason I ask is because there is a tendency in our agency world to assume that the techniques used to sell cider, fitness or expensive holidays (to name three that we’re currently working on) can also be used to recruit supporters and donations for charities. That if we’re creative enough, then the effectiveness will take care of itself.

But it doesn’t does it?

Far too often, when it comes to charity, advertising, digital and media people want to be creative rather than focus on what actually works. So a big campaign with a whizzy creative idea might raise awareness, gain you ‘likes’ or ‘fans’, but will it deliver engagement and involvement? Let’s go back to those objectives.

More people to donate money?

We believe that your focus should be digital storytelling and experiential philanthropy. At present, you want people to donate to help with your work, your projects. What people want is to be involved in projects, to be part of something, to contribute and share the story. Put simply, I don’t want to give £50 to an organisation with no idea of how that money will be spent except that it is ‘for a good cause’. It’s not what you do. It’s what you’re actually doing. I want to give £50 and become part of what you do. I want compelling visual updates that I can share. I want to know when things go wrong, because a story without some drama or conflict isn’t going to hold my attention. I want photos, video, blog updates. So don’t bury these projects in pdf’s on a static webpage. Make them dynamic, exciting and prominent.Give people options of which project to support, tailor which you offer based on what you know about the individual. Tailor the way that you talk about each project. Tailoring delivers ROI.

You’re concerned that many people aren’t aware of your charity status.

When was the last time you avoided a chugger? I did it today. That’s the problem isn’t it? Charities are everywhere these days. It isn’t really the differentiator of old. No sooner has Children in Need finished than Comic Relief is here and we’re all sitting in bathtubs of baked beans. Sadly, people are increasingly suspicious and wary of charities. Why? Well, it may be something to do with the fact that you can’t pop out for a packet of crisps anymore without a hyperactive drama student on an hourly rate trying to get your bank details. So the fact that you are a charity is a wonderful reassurance and confirmation of the good work that you do. But it’s the work itself that will drive engagement and involvement.

Make people aware of how you can make around the world.

See above - digital and direct marketing storytelling encouraging experiential philanthropy. The future of giving is project based – so make more of those projects by getting people to join you in making them happen. Don’t ask them for money – ask them for their help, their time and attention. Do this by tailoring the content – focus on projects that you feel that they will want to support and then allow them to give in a way that works for them. Make it a rewarding experience, and the money will come too.

So how could we help? Well, we’ve got lots of experience of helping brands connect and engage with their consumers. We do this through rigorous analysis and focus on matching brand objectives with the dreams, hopes, aspirations and desires of the consumer.

We believe that we could energise the fundraising for you by bringing this rigour to bear on how and where you communicate your projects. So that the right people get the right message about the right project in the right media. All of which ‘rightness’ will make them want to be involved – financially and emotionally.

In terms of next steps we would advocate meeting up. Taking this conversation further. Give the subject a good going over. It would be fun. Right now, I’ve got to take my daughters to where I hit my head – and try and make sure that they don’t jump off any stairs or get bitten by a goose.

Hope to speak soon.

Pete

Click on the slide and it’ll take you to the presentation uploaded to Slideshare. I’ve posted up the slides and put my speakers notes alongside them, so hopefully it will make sense.

For a another post on the modern degeneration of storytelling, and in particular our ‘And I was Like..’ culture, click here.

“Hello Pete?”

“Yes Danny.”

“I’m calling about the wet sauce NPD and dry packet briefs”

“Great.”

“How are you getting on? Only, I’m getting really worried about Old El Paso”

“In what way?”

“Branding. They’re kicking our arse in the sauces and condiments aisle.”

“Really?”

“Yes, they’re yellow and red and they’ve got a really big presence.”

“Ah”

” Is there no way that we can trademark our colourways? Like we’ve owned yellow and red for years, and then they come along and all of a sudden they are all yellow.”

“Isn’t that a song? Ha ha. No, of course it’s not funny. Look, I’m no expert but I don’t think you can trademark a colour.”

“I thought not, but their packets are so big, and our jars are so small. I mean I’ve thought about larger packets and bottles but people just don’t go for them in research. It’s so frustrating to have our arses kicked like this.”

” Are you sure you’re not worrying too much? I mean mustard or a fajita kit is not really an either or purchase is it? Or is it?”

“No I guess not. But I’m still worried.”

“Shall we talk about the wet cook in sauces instead? Might cheer you up. The team have been working really hard on some new concepts.”

“Yeah, let’s talk wet, and then we can do dry packet.”

“Great!”

“Great!”

……….conversation continues for what feels like hours.

It’ll go something like ‘and I was like’

‘and they were like’

‘and I was like’

Now what strikes me about these Jeremy Kyle style exchanges (when I hear them through physical proximity on the street or in a cafe for example) is how amazingly blunt and confrontational we all seem to be. Or at least, the conversations and interactions as recounted are. Which is odd really. For when I look at the people not on their phones; those sat talking, or walking along together, most of them are enjoying each others company. Whether they are laughing at a joke, or wrapped up in a serious discussion, there is a general air of politeness and equanimity.

But on the phone, in the recounting of these polite encounters, our memories seem to play tricks on us. In his book, ‘Born Liars’, an old work colleague of mine, Ian Leslie describes it as ‘Remembering…is an act of creative reconstruction.’

Here’s an excerpt from a good synopsis of Ian’s book, which is excellent and well worth buying and reading, especially if you work, like I do, in the marketing / advertising business:

“Our attitudes to lying are confused and contradictory - you might even say, self-deceiving. On the one hand we hate lies, and liars. On the other, we all indulge in fibs, tall tales and fantasies. If lying is wrong, why do we all do it - both to others, and to ourselves? In Born Liars, Ian Leslie argues that, far from being a bug in the human software, lying is central to who we are; that we cannot understand ourselves without first understanding the dynamics of deceit. Born Liars takes us on a fascinating journey which makes us question not only our own relationship to the truth, but also virtually every daily encounter we have.”

Not being as thorough and erudite a writer as Ian, I thought I’d just add a little playful comment for a Friday. Which is this - the modern predeliction for prefacing our memories with ‘and I was like / he was like’ Is it, as the Urban Dictionary would define it “Obnoxious people use this phrase after they have recited an anecdote about their petty tribulations. This is to compensate for their complete absence of wit or original insight into anything.”

Or is it also an unconscious linguistic acknowledgement that what they are saying to you is an approximation of what actually happened? Or to take that further, is it a fabrication? A lie? That they know, really, that the real exchange was ‘like’ the tale that they are telling, but isn’t really what happened at all.

And I was like, that’s my view, i’ve put it in a blog post and everything.

And everyone else was like, whatever.

And I was like, you’re really disrespecting me with your indifference.

And they were like, again, whatever.

Whatever.

I love Uncle Sam’s. It’s a Bristol institution and it’s been around since I was a schoolboy. Which leads neatly on to the issue. Uncle Sam’s now sells records as ‘vintage’ and ‘collectable’ that I bought from music shops on the same street when I were a ‘lad’. Like this one, ‘Licence to Ill’ by the Beastie Boys.

This is not cool, it’s life telling me every day to grow up. Having said that, on the positive side, it also reminds me EVERY WORKING DAY that maybe the hipster jeans were a mistake for a man of my age. That perhaps I shouldn’t take up skateboarding. Or try be funny on a blog or social media. Wait - oh. Arse.

On Monday, the creative agency where I lurk moved office. It was a hot, sweaty day of lugging boxes, brightened only by having a reflector sunglassed pensioner crash into the side of the van. How we laughed as he fled the scene, our angry faces mirrored in his eyewear. Later, sat in our newly empty office with my co-shirkers, we reminisced over our time in our nice office in a nasty part of town.

On our first day in the office, over four years ago, we’d been introduced to a director of one of the PR agencies from upstairs in the ‘Media Centre’.

“What do you guys do?” he’d asked, and on being told that it was mainly advertising and design, he’d continued ‘I could get you in the papers. You know, do a piece on the greatest ads of all time. Do a survey, people vote, you get to comment on it.”

“Why would we do that?” I asked.

“Brand exposure” he replied.

“It would make us the laughing stock of our industry” I replied, “and clients don’t give you their business based on surveys.”

To adapt a well known tabloid phrase - we made our excuses and he left. Now I don’t have anything against surveys. I’ve taken part in some. Hell, I was even on a council volunteer group for a year, filling out surveys on dustbins and residents parking schemes. I’m not anti-survey. Honest. In a recent survey (of me) 100% (of me) was not against surveys.

What I am against however, is having been introduced to an individual, that the first thing they try and do is try and take money off me for a pointless, nay, witless piece of survey driven PR. Did I also say that this man who proposed the survey was also suspiciously orange? Never trust someone whose skin is not skin coloured. Unfortunately, the pointless survey has become a constant feature of modern PR and journalism, and no doubt Mr Orange and his colleagues are eating truffles from ivory plates, quaffing vintage wine from solid gold goblets.

In the excellent short book ‘Not Many Dead’ by Nick Parker, there is an entire chapter dedicated to ‘Self Serving Surveys’, such as “Women are at their happiest when they ditch their boyfriends and go out for a drink and a chinwag with girlfriends” said a survey from the makers of Bliss, a new drink aimed at women”. Or ” People nowadays would rather be sacked by video conference than almost any other method’ said a survey carried out by video conference specialist Masergy. In fact what the survey actually revealed was that people would much prefer to be sacked in person. They only preferred a video conference firing to being given the boot by phone or post”

More recently, amidst all the genuine furore over a new daytime TV ad for Lovehoney,  the UK’s “most popular online adult store and the best place to discover and buy sex toys, sexy lingerie, condoms, lubricants and gifts” it was amusing to see the dead hand of witless research and survey at work..

The Mail starts off on the usual PR led storyline…“The first TV commercial for a sex toy company has been approved for broadcast during daytime viewing hours. Executives at the firm involved, Lovehoney, have hailed the development as a breakthrough in terms of the nation’s attitude to sex and pleasure.”

But then we get a truly fabulous, nonsensical comparison. A gem of the self serving survey genre….

“A recent study claimed that British and international sales of sex toys are set to match smartphones like the iPhone.”

What’s that got to do with anything? Underpants may match the sales of beef. Moisturiser may have overtaken bleach. And the point of the comparison is? None. No point. I have a smartphone, and I don’t remember in the ‘consideration period’ there being a moment when I thought ‘Hmmm, smartphone or sex toy?’ What’s more, even though I am not a woman (no, really), I would go so far as to say that neither do women. I accept that most smartphones have a vibrate function, but surely there remains a basic incompatibility in terms of shape that means a sex toy or a smartphone is not an either or purchase? No, this is self serving PR guff. It’s a desire to have a piece of acceptable technology mentioned in the same sweaty breath as your clients sex toy.

Now it may be that it was simply the journalist in question who dredged up this piece of nonsense, and that it didn’t originate from some PR agency, but the wider point remains valid - that the self serving pseudo science of the survey (trying saying that fast after a few drinks) is lazy, ill thought through pr and marketing at its very worst. It’s not as if the Lovehoney campaign needed it - it’s newsworthy enough as it is. The film is tastefully shot, and it will be interesting to see if it does provide a boost in sales for the brand. As TV personality and heart throb Nick Knowles commented on twitter - ‘More power to their elbow’ Though he should be careful, a recent survey reported that elbows were the most likely joints to be put out on a social media platform. Or was it noses?

It would have been a pleasure to be there, if only to meet up with old friends and colleagues, and to show support for the importance and value of good copy. For as Claire Beale, editor of Campaign magazine, used her editorial last week to say -  ”it’s perverse that the art of writing advertising copy, writing to persuade and sell, should have become less valued and excellence less demanded. Looking through the entries to our Big Awards last week, the judges agreed that the standard of writing was pretty depressing, copy lines on high profile, big budget campaigns were boring, hackneyed, sloppy, embarassing.”

I agree. A particular example of this sloppiness can be found in the latest BMW 1 Series commercial. I’ve singled it out because the lack of care attached to the writing can be pinpointed to one word. One tiny little word. A conjunction. And.

Before going any further, a little confession. I used to work at WCRS, the agency here in the UK which has done so much to build the BMW brand and help them grow from a niche to mass car manufacturer. I know lots of creative, talented people who will be as aghast as I at the betrayal of the cool, sophisticated and engineering focus of the ‘Ultimate Driving Machine’ campaign that this ad represents.

Leaving that aside, what really annoys me about it is that it is so hard to follow. Why ? Principally because of the visual edit, but also down to the careless use of one tiny little word. That conjunction. Let’s have a look at the v/o.

We start with “My brother Freddy, he’s an actor and a model”

We see a man. Driving a red car. Got it. So he, as yet un-named character A, has a brother called Freddy, character B.

That is then followed by “And my brother Adam, he works with architects”

Now this is someone NEW talking. It’s the brother Freddy, character B who’s just been referenced by character A. Freddy is now talking about Adam. Who we’ve just seen. Clear? No. Not for me either. Why? Because the sentence starts ‘and’. Which means that by all the conventions of reading, writing and listening to the English language that I have done since the age of five means that the same person is talking. So I now think that the driver of the red car has two brothers, one called Freddy and one called Adam. I am mistaken in this I know, but I now think that we are listening to a brother with no name, character C, who is talking about his brothers, A & B.

This makes the rest of the commercial, which is complicated and difficult enough to engage with, all the more unintelligible. AND. The fault for that lies with that tiny little word ‘and’, plus of course the way that the edit did not show visually that the narrator had changed. Important things words.

In terms of language however, it gets worse. ‘he works with architects’. With? With? What on earth does that mean? That Adam is their cleaner, their chiropodist, or even copywriter?

The v/o then rambles on with throwaway lifestyle burble, all the time alternating between A & B. Of course until doing this close textual analysis, I was still imagining that I was listening to C…..

“I like to work hard, play rough

Freddy on the other hand, he likes to play it smooth

Freddy orders some mini, skinny, latte. No milk. No sugar. No this No that

My brother just drinks espresso

Freddy loves all the attention that he can get. For me, being on my own, it’s wonderful too”

Memo to BMW.Noone talks like this.

He’s got his ways, I’ve got mine

to be honest you’ll never find me and Fred driving the same car”

AND. With that, it’s thankfully over. The brothers can go and share a coffee of their choice. Be together, yet alone. Which is “wonderful too.”

I know that things like this shouldn’t annoy me, but they do. Seeing outstanding, successful advertising campaigns built on great copy, art direction, and, yes, strategic insight, thrown away in favour of ill thought through, poorly executed lifestyle nonsense.